


A Time for Everything

by 26stars



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen, Season 1 Finale, Season/Series 01, Team as Family, a little hurt comfort too, not just about may and skye...unlike everything else i write...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 04:58:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4006675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/26stars/pseuds/26stars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oneshot- Once the head is crushed and there is room to breathe, what's the first thing everyone needs to say?</p><p>[started as a May&Skye fic but I think I just needed hugs for everyone]</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Time for Everything

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on the train a few months ago and needed to pull it out after the s2 finale for season 1 throwback comfort-everything back then seems so innocent in comparison to season 2.
> 
> We'll probably never get moments like this again, and that breaks my heart.

Skye is standing on a slope just outside the circle of activity. Mike Petersen is walking away, scars and cyberenhancements covered with a dirty trench coat and gaze fixed straight ahead because _what’s done is done_. Garrett is finished. A head is cut off. And then two soldiers in combat gear are marching out of the building below with a bloody and beaten Grant Ward between them. May comes striding out after them, her fists bloody but her face absolutely radiating satisfaction. Ward’s throat is already purple, his eyes baleful as Coulson says a few last words to him and sends him limping to a transport to who-cares-where.

The door slams, sealing him away, and it’s _done._

Like a switch flipped, Skye feels the exhaustion of three days of adrenaline-fueled adventure hit her like a freight train as she takes a few disbelieving steps back towards the building, towards her team. She manages not to stumble but she’s picking up speed, actually starting to run, kicking up a cloud of dust because she can. She hits level ground and literally launches herself at May. She doesn’t know why. Maybe May doesn’t either, but her arms are ready. Open.

It’s a victory. A small start in a long climb, but a victory nonetheless. So that’s what Skye tells herself as she hugs the hell out of May, _Melinda fucking May_ , who just beat Ward at his best.

She’s still a little shocked when May pulls back and moves her hands to grip Skye’s face, looking her in the eye.

“You were great,” she says decisively. The first direct affirmation Skye’s ever heard from her.

“My new S.O. is fucking awesome,” Skye responds, starry-eyed, shamelessly grinning at May for as long as this moment lasts.

And then there’s Trip emerging unscathed yet looking ragged for the same reason they all will soon-when they are ready to face full-on the betrayal, the confusion, the impossibility of everything that lies ahead…

So Skye doesn’t hesitate to pull him in to the knot and squish him and May in her arms together-and then Coulson is there before May can squirm away, but it’s Trip who catches him by the vest and drags him in, and the man indulges them both for a moment…

And for a few seconds, the world is quiet. The questions cease their endless repetition in their minds, the fear clears like morning mist, and they all seem to exhale in unison.

“Good job, everybody,” Coulson says quietly, his hand heavy on Skye’s shoulder, and she hears his words echo in the unfilled spaces, in the absence of two more people who should have been there to receive his praise.

And Skye can tell the precise moment when duty calls to break the spell, when Coulson looks past them and sees something that pulls him past them, a single look bringing May with him. Skye steps back from Trip and smiles deliriously.

“What now?” she asks with a shrug, having absolutely no idea where to move next.

“Now?” He shrugs and smiles too. “Now we celebrate, girl.”

_Celebrate what? That we took down some traitors only after they put knives in our backs? That we lost two friends who should never have been out in the field? That the best we can come up with for the 'now what?' is to go throw back a few?_

But Skye knows there will be time for this later. There will be time-probably too much time- to feel the deprivation, the loss, the depth of this wound. But as long as the shock lasts, as long as fatigue and busyness will keep the impending tsunami of pain at bay, Skye is willing to keep the moment going, keep running for higher ground.

“I don’t know about you," she says, "but I could go for a drink and a countertop to put my head down on.”

“Now you’re talking. That bar in your plane got anything left in it?”

Skye turns toward the plane and realizes they’ll be following May and Coulson and _who’s the homeless guy_?

“Let’s find out.”


End file.
